


I Am Yours

by SonsOfBelial



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Department of Mysteries, Horcruxes, M/M, One Shot, Voldemort Is Mean, kind of sad, really hot, they have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonsOfBelial/pseuds/SonsOfBelial
Summary: Harry pays a visit to the Department of Mysteries to start his new job as an Unspeakable. He'll certainly find something to keep his mouth shut...





	

“If you’ll follow me, Mr Potter, sir.” 

The starry eyed Ministry employee was bumbling down the dark corridor, and Harry loped after him, adjusting his round glasses slightly on his nose, before entering following him through a door.

“Welcome, Mr Potter,” said the man proudly, “To the Department of Mysteries.”

Apparently the man was unaware that Harry had already been there, but he didn’t particularly care. In fact, for once it was refreshing. The man didn’t know every detail of his life like everyone else seemed to. He ignored the Unspeakables gawking at him, but he couldn’t shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach. The last time he’d been here, Sirius had died… Now, at 19, he was returning here to work. 

He could feel it again, that sinking feeling of emptiness, and all of a sudden, a soft hand slipped into his. Turning, he looked at Ginny, who had been permitted to come with him for his induction. Her soft brown eyes shone with warmth, and though it helped none, it meant something that she was there. Squeezing her hand tightly, he followed the man to the room he knew as the Death room. The room with the archway, the Veil. Frowning, he grabbed the man’s shoulder.

“I thought I was working with Time,” he began, confused.

The man smiled at him. “Er… I was simply told to bring you here.”

He did not want to go in here. This was where Sirius had died. Stepping forward, he was about to protest, when the man opened the door and all but pushed Harry and Ginny through the door. They fell, their fall broken in the same way it was last time, and he scrambles to his feet, looking up at the archway. There was no one around. What was going on?

“Harry…” Ginny’s voice rung out, traces of fear behind her strong voice, and he spun. What?

Tom Riddle stood before them. He was older than the diary Riddle, more akin to the Riddle seen in the memory where he’d come to interview for a teaching job. Tall, dark and terrifying. Deep dark eyes, now tinged with red looked on at them, and he smiled in amusement.

Harry surged forward, drawing out his wand, but the second he did it was whipped from his hand, flying across the chamber. 

“You can’t do that anymore, Potter,” said Riddle, a satisfied smirk on his face, “You’re not my horcrux anymore. You can no longer hold a candle to me.”

At this Ginny stepped forward. “He’s twice the man you ever were, you sick-“

Crack.

As the sound hit his ears, he was met with a wave of disbelief. Emerald green eyes fell upon her she feel, seemingly taking an age to fall, her neck lolled unnaturally. He blinked slowly.

Ginny was dead. She was dead. 

He shot forward, reaching for her as though he had a chance of saving her, but just before his fingers locked on, she was ripped from him, her limp body hurtling through the veil. She was gone. She was gone…

Turning his head, he stared at Riddle with wide green eyes, a hate more passionate than anything he’d felt since the war rising up inside of him. “You killed her,” he stated, his voice thick with loathing.

Riddle arched his brow. “I was not unaware of this.”

Wandless, but overcome with blind fury, he rushed Riddle, swinging his fist for him. With a dark laugh, a hand came out and caught it with ease, swinging Harry round and locking his arm in place.

“Such furor…” he said with a chuckle, “Did you convince yourself that your temper was something I gave you?”

Harry tried to move, but as he did, Riddle put more pressure on him. 

“Oh no…” said Riddle softly, leaning in so that his breath was hot against his ear, “It is something we have in common…”

Harry’s heart sped up, unable to shove down the fear. Ginny was all but forgotten in the heat of this moment. Before he had been confident Voldemort would die, but then…

“How are you here?” asked Harry, his voice coming out weaker than he’d have liked.

There was a silence, and then- “I am here for you.” 

Before he could reply, Riddle released his arm, and as Harry turned to attempt to attack him again, Riddle’s own hand shot out, cracking across his face, sending his head spinning. Stumbling back, he found his anger had momentarily dissipated, and he looked at Riddle in shock. 

At this, Riddle cocked his head to one side, his eyes raking over him as though contemplating something, before bringing them back to meet Harry’s own emerald greens. Then, he smiled, smooth and charming and arrogant, and Harry felt like a rabbit. Like a deer. Powerless.

“How are you finding the art of… moving on?” he inquired, somewhat conversationally.

“What?” demanded Harry. 

Riddle smirks. “You’re not handling it at all. I can see it in your eyes… No one has ever known you as I do, nor will they ever. Haven’t you figured out how to exist without me there?”

Harry said nothing… he hadn’t figured it out yet. He hadn’t moved on yet. Of course Riddle knew that. 

“No…” he said softly, “You haven’t. You won’t. You cannot exist without me, not really. Does it make you feel alive again to see me stood before you?”

Yes. “No.”

Dark eyes gleam with amusement. “You died the day I did, Harry Potter.”

Harry raised his chin, looking him straight in the eye. “I am not dead.”

In a flash, Riddle was in front of him, towering over him as always, and Harry refused to back away. To let him win. Riddle’s lips curved.

“Of course you are…” he whispered, “Only I can live forever.”

Harry readied himself to punch him again, but before his fist made contact, Riddle leaned down, pressing his lips to his. 

What. The. Fuck. 

His lips were cool, smooth, moving with expert grace against his own, and it took Harry a moment to fully register what was happening. Tom Riddle was kissing him. Lord Voldemort was k i s s i n g him. 

He pulled back, attempting to get away, but Riddle was faster, snaking his arm around his waist and holding him still. How could one man be so strong?

“Let me go,” demanded Harry, a lilt of panic in his voice, “Let me go now. What the fuck are you doing?”

Riddle cocked his head again. “You, ideally.”

Harry gaped at him. “Why?”

“You are mine,” he stated, as though it is obvious, “Mine to kill, mine to mould. Mine.”

“Then kill me don’t fucking kiss me!” shouted Harry, pushing against his shoulders. Riddle simply chuckled, his eyes gleaming at Harry’s struggle. 

“Oh Harry,” he laughed, his gaze darkening ominously, “I’m going to do so much more than simply kissing you. You took everything from me… And now, I will take everything from you.”

Panic rose in his chest, and he struggled harder. There was a brief moment of relief when he thought Riddle was letting him go, when he thought it must have been some sick joke. Instead, Riddle hit him with the back of his hand, sending him crashing to the floor. The monster fell to his knees in front of him, before reaching out and grabbing Harry by the hair, pulling him up to face level, and staring at him with a calm arrogance.

“Tell me you’re sorry…” he said, his voice soft, and mocking, “And perhaps I’ll go easy on you.”

Harry looked at him incredulously for a moment. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

Riddle smirked. “We understand each other then.”

Harry found himself thrown back, his head cracking against the floor and he cried out in pain. Another dark chuckle graced his ears as Riddle tore at his clothes, ripping them off with his magic, with his fingers. His fingers were cold, smooth, and Harry gasped as they made contact with the bare skin on his abdomen. He attempted to throw him off again, but Riddle was taller, broader, and stronger. One hand on his hip, and the other pinning his hands above his head, he was so much stronger. And as his greatest enemy held him to the floor, he knew, with a sinking feeling, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

As Riddle looked him over, Harry didn’t feel particularly self-conscious. He didn’t feel shy at all, for whatever reason…

He liked it. 

“Don’t you always feel most alive when we clash wands, Potter?” 

Harry looked up at the amused glint in Riddle’s eyes, gasping again as Riddle’s long-fingered hand wrapped around his erection, squeezing tightly. He bit his lip. No…

Riddle kissed him again, and this time Harry was angry. He had no right to be doing this, no right at all. He bit his lip.

The monster drew back, a trail of blood seeping from his lip, and his gaze darkened. Fuck. His fingers had apparently worked miracles, because Harry was distraught to find that he was rock hard, and when Riddle ground into him warningly, he could not help but moan. 

Riddle brought his lips to Harry’s chest, looking up at him briefly. “Beg me for it.”

“No.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

Riddle smirked again, but this time, the arrogance did not incense Harry, it did something else entirely… What was that? He groaned again as Riddle’s tongue snaked out, circling his nipple teasingly before he took it between his teeth. He arched, he could not help himself, his muscles squirming against his will, and as Riddle chuckled the vibrations sent his mind spinning with sensory overload.

“Beg for it.”

Harry’s eyes glazed over, his mind too skewed to protest, and he looks at Riddle. “I will… Take it off… Take it all off…”

Riddle arched his brow, but consented, and Harry looked over him with a mix of jealousy and lust. How could someone be so… Beautiful. Both naked on the floor of the Department of Mysteries. Equals, once more. In love and war. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please Tom.”

Riddle’s gaze darkened again, not what he was looking for clearly, but Harry was determined not to let him win. Though he had clearly already lost. Apparently, Riddle wasn’t too concerned, because he crashed his lips against Harry’s once more, spreading his legs immediately and driving into him without warning. It was agonising, and Harry cried out loudly, but as Riddle began moving inside him rhythmically the pain melted away into something so pleasurable Harry felt he might explode. 

Their eyes met, and Harry could not place the look Riddle gave him. Lust, hate, passion. There was something more, but it was unexplainable, and he doubted Riddle could explain it either. “Why?” he had to ask.

“Because I want to,” replied Riddle, his voice controlled, if a little breathless. He lifted Harry so that he was straddling him, his lips attacking his neck again, so that Harry moaned away helplessly, purposely digging his nails into Riddle’s back and scratching, red slashes across his skin, and this served to rile Riddle up, his teeth grazing Harry’s neck in both delight and warning. 

Suddenly, Riddle spun him around so that Harry’s back was pressed against him, moving his hips where he didn’t have the sense to, and he latched onto Harry’s ear. Harry was all but screaming at this point, this was unlike any sex he had ever had. And it wasn’t just because Riddle was good. No, it was more than that, though he loathed to admit it.

“Harry…” He slammed Harry hips down, impaling him painfully again.

Harry cried out, before replying. “What?”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I don’t.”

Riddle’s lips trailed down to his neck, to his shoulder, and then he bit him. Harry screamed, through pleasure or pain he did not know. Perhaps both.

“Yes you do.”

“I do,” said Harry, tears of shock streaming down his face, “I can’t do it.”

“I know,” said Riddle, “You need me… Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

Harry found himself face to face with Riddle once more, and it was Harry who kissed him this time, clinging to him as he reached his climax, spilling onto their stomachs. After a moment, Riddle followed, and the two sat there for a moment, before Riddle lifted him off and lay him back on the floor, getting up, and walking towards the archway. 

Harry’s eyes widened, and he attempted to follow, only to be met with a searing pain in his lower back. “Where are you going?”

Riddle looked back at him, his usually neat and tidy hair falling beautifully onto his forehead. Not a shred of clothing on, slick with sweat, stood before the ethereal glow of the archway… He looked like a god.

“I have to return now…”

“But-

“I will come back,” vowed Riddle, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You will stay here now, understand? You will stay here with me.”

Harry nodded, breathing heavily, and dropping back to his knees again. “I will.”

Their eyes met. Emerald green and onyx black, and Riddle smirked. “I told you I’d take everything. Who do you belong to?”

“I am yours.”

With a last dark chuckle, Riddle turns and disappears through the Veil.

**Author's Note:**

> Tomarry will forever be in my top five OTPs.
> 
> I've many little oneshots like this, I intend to get them all put up. I occasionally take requests too, so let me have them, harlots.
> 
> XO


End file.
